Love is Like Sand
by TheLastOfTheMagic
Summary: Can two enemies turn to each other for survival. Can they learn to be friends when their life is slipping through their hands, like sand would.
1. Prolouge

**Disclaimor: I do not own this lovely little poem at the very beginning, I sincerely wish I had that much talent, but I do not. You know what else I don't have enough talent to write? The Harry Potter series, the wonderful J.K. Rowling blessed us with the characters and plot of that series, not my self. However, the plot, and any new characters that come up are mine. Enjoy. **

Some say that love is just like sand  
>Held so precious inside your hand,<br>If held by tenderness and admiration  
>It slowly becomes a beautiful creation.<br>Now the minute you squeeze to hold on tight  
>The trickling sand starts losing sight.<br>And into the darkness, your love lingers  
>As it slowly falls right through your fingers.<br>Now even though there's some still there,  
>It's not enough to hardly share.<br>and as your left completely thrilled  
>Is then you see…. too much has spilled.<br>Yes, love is like sand, bound by respect,  
>Held by compassion, and lost by neglect<br>For only trust can keep it intact  
>If embraced with grace, and that's a fact.<br>But to hold on so tight, with such a grip,  
>That sand your holding starts to slip,<br>the love you share slips away.

"Love is Like Sand"  
>- Author Unknown<p>

Crying never helps anything, crying over the dead doesn't bring them back. But...there's something about crying by yourself that's stress relieving. It was like seven year's worth of stresses were being washed away by the silvery tears streaming down her cheeks. She wasn't normally like this. Hermione didn't like crying personally, it made her face blotchy, and the salty taste of intruding water drops was enough to make her gag. But here she was, crying. In the Room of Requirement. Well, rather, the ashes the room used to be. She had been searching for something, anything really, anything not scarred by fire, anything that even looked remotely close to something that was full of perfection.

Anything.

Perfection.

Perfection.

Perfection. Thoroughly obsessed with the thought.

She had found one thing, a small silver locket with hearts of vines etched into the back, with a spirally H and a G on it. Ironic, really. It had her intials on it. In all sense of the word is was perfect perfection.

She curled her fist around it and sobbed. Flashes of memories went by, old places, old friends. _Fred. Dobby. Cedric. Sirius. Dumbledor. Remus. Tonks. Colin. _She mourned over them. She missed her parents too, but as it stood, they didn't even remember she existed. She just wanted home._ Home is where her heart was. _

In two flashes of a centaur swishing it's tail every thing would be skewed. In two seconds, everything would be turned upside down. In two moments. Zwei Momente. Deux moments. Liǎng gè shíkè. Dos mementos. Due momenti.

She was screwed.

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><p><strong>AN: Hi guys, it's been a while since I've written, and I fear that I'm terribly rusty. I hope you enjoyed it, however. **  
><strong>Review, I'll give you virtual sundaes with sugar on top!<strong>  
><strong>XOXO,<br>****WindsongFairy**


	2. Chapter 1: Bits and baubles

**DISCLAIMOR: I once again would like to reiterate that I don't have enough talent to have written the Harry Potter series, however, the plot is mine. Enjoy. **

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><p>She heard footsteps. Too heavy to be a female's, yet, not exactly heavy enough to be a full grown man's.<p>

"'Mione?" came a concerned voice. A voice she had come to recognize through the years. She looked up into the worried eyes, of the one, the only, Harry James Potter. "Herm, are you okay?"

She nodded, even though she was lying. Even though he could see right through it.

He sat down next to her, on the dusty part of the floor she had cleared, which was next to a heap of ashes. He looked her up and down. Noticing the little differences between his "To the library!" Hermione and his "I don't like camping in a forest, but I'm going to save you idiots." Hermione. The smears of soot on her face, which for some reason made her light freckles pop against her skin. The stains on her, what was once pristine, blouse. Her knotted brown locks hap-harzardly thrown up into a ponytail. A small cut on her hand. A gash in the fabric of her jeans. An untied shoe. She looked almost childish really. Not the immature kind of childish, but actually like a child. Full of innocence. Full of youth. Beautiful in having imperfections, such as an ice cream stain of a young girl in pigtail's shirt.

He smiled. This was his best friend after all. No, he was not secretly in love with her. No, they never had an affair. No, they weren't anything more than friends. Well, they were _best _friends, almost like family, well, actually, Harry considered the small framed girl beside him family. But anyways, nothing more, and **CERTAINLY** nothing less.

He reached his arm around her, and gave the shaky girl a reassuring squeeze. Hermione's teary brown eyes met his green eyes that had the same twinkle of mischief he had always had. She, later on, would laugh at that twinkle. The amount of trouble that damn twinkle had caused.

She sniffled, "It's over, isn't it?" she looked up at the tall vaulted ceiling, the only thing not touched by flames. She sighed.

Harry laughed a little, trying to make light of the situation, knowing that being extremely upset, was not the route to take at this _EXACT_ moment, "Completely."

Still looking at the ceiling, she whispered out, "Where do we go from here?"

He was looking at the side of her face, she could feel him staring, but she couldn't meet his eyes just yet, "Not a bloody clue. Your guess is as good as mine."

Finally meeting his eyes, like grass meeting earth, "Where's Ronald?"

Ron and her's kiss was one of her favorite moments, it was her first. And she hoped he would be her first EVERYTHING. It had felt right. It had felt perfect. She had finally gotten what she had been seeking from the beginning. She had won.

Harry knew this question was coming, he cringed, "Erm..." how to break this to his Hermione. How to make it hurt the least. He knew it would sting. He realized his other best friend was a git, but...bloody hell, Ron was so dense sometimes, "He's catching up with Lavender..." He cringed again as he heard her sharp intake of breath.

Her hand pressed against the locket she was still holding further, "Ah. I see." She looked ahead.

Time went on slowly it seemed. Her and Harry just staring off into space. His arm around her. The feeling of comfort sweeping over her body.

"Awhhhh. How SWEET. Muddy and Pothead are snuggling," the most sarcastic voice in Hogwarts called out. Hermione sighed. Yes, because this was** EXACTLY** what she had needed at this** EXACT** moment. Bleeding prat.

Draco Malfoy stood behind them in all his ferret glory. His signature smirk gracing his face. His wand already out, because **APPARENTLY** he hadn't had enough fighting just yet. The Battle of Hogwarts, as history would fondly refer to it, was fastly approaching to 50 victims. And he still hadn't had enough. Idiot.

Harry jumped up and turned to face the intruder, "Malfoy." Hermione sighed yet again, and slowly stood up to face him as well.

Draco fake gasped and then sneered, "Pothead."

Bored, Hermione dangled the little necklace on her fingers, playing with the chain. It was such a pretty little thing. It really was.

That is the same pretty little thing that caught the eye of the famous grey eyed prat. Ferret-man extrodinaire! Dun dada dun! Dracooooooooooooooooo Malfoy.

"Where did you find MY locket, you filth!" He gasped somewhere in between anger and surprise.

"Oi, don't you call her that! You're the filthy one. Deatheater." Harry defended his friend, there was no way in Merlin's bloody underpants would Malfoy call her that, not now, not ever again.

"Harry," Hermione pleaded, "Harry, stop, it's not worth it." Draco sneered, Hermione studied his face, she had once wondered if he had any other emotion than "Heartless Bastard"

"You heard your little girlfriend." Draco mimicked Hermione in a high pitched squeal that sounded nothing like her, "Stoooooooooooooop. He's not worth it." He stopped his charade and smirked again, "Mudblood, please." He sadistically laughed. Like, well like the little bastard he was. "Want me to leave you alone, so you two can continue your little fuck fest? So you can breed your own damned little brethren?"

Harry noticeably turned a different color. Hermione could literally feel the anger radiating off of him. She had had enough of this.

Enough of _everything. _

Enough of_ hate._

Enough of_ fighting._

Enough of_ lies._

Enough of_ hypocritical beliefs._ CoughDracoMalfoyCoughCough.

Just, **enough.**

She walked up to the blonde, and now taller than her man, scratch that, boy. He was a little boy. Too afraid of what his father thinks. A coward. Nothing about him was even remotely close to a man. Save for a penis. **IF** he had one...

"You want your dumb, feminine locket ferret-boy? Then here you go." She dangled it above his hand, barely hanging onto the chain, holding on with two fingers. It almost pained her to see it go, it was so perfect. And pretty. Perfectly pretty. "Take it."

Draco humphed at the insolence of Hermione, but reached up to grab the little bauble anyway. As soon as he touched the trinket, a swallowing feeling was felt by both parties, and within seconds Hermione and Draco had vanished.

Harry stared wide eyed at the spot his best friend and his enemy has just been. "Aw. Fuck..."

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><p><strong>AN: So that was chapter one, I hope you enjoyed. Review and sundaes with sugar on top are in store!  
>XOXO,<br>Windsong Fairy  
><strong>


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